Comforts of Home
by nikinou
Summary: Henry, Don and the kids discuss the kids' plans after Betty's death.


The sun had just begun to set as Don dozed off in front of the TV. He had been at Shea Stadium for most of the day watching a double-header with prospective clients from out of town. The weather was a little raw, in the mid-fifties all afternoon, and having to be "on" all afternoon, in addition to being outside had completely tired Don out. Plus, after the Mets won the first game, they gave it all up to the Pirates in the second game. It all made for an exhausting day. Just as he was drifting into a light sleep he was startled by the shrill ring of the telephone.

"Hello?" Don groggily picked up the phone.

"Hello Daddy!" Sally sounded especially cheerful. Don was glad. She had not been very cheerful lately. Nobody had. Betty's death weighed on all of them like a heavy blanket.

"Hi sweetheart. I was going to call you. How was your "real" birthday?" he asked his daughter. He picks up his pack of cigarettes, but it's empty.

"Not bad. Quiet. Henry picked up Chinese food, and we had ice cream cake too." Sally told him. "Oh, also...I spoke to Uncle William."

"You did? That's nice, they called for your birthday, huh..." Don is looking around for another pack of cigarettes while making small talk with Sally.

"Well, not really." Sally says. "Actually, I called him."

"You did? Why?" Now he's curious.

"Because...I wanted to tell him that we are not going to live in Philadelphia. We are staying in Rye." She takes a deep breath and waits for Don to respond.

"What? You told him that? Sally, these were your mother's wishes. You know that." Don tells her.

"I know. But we, Bobby, Gene and I, don't agree with her wishes. We want to stay in Rye. Henry wants us, and this is our home. And we will be closer to you." Sally stated her case clearly. "Do you really want us to go there? You want us that far away? I know you don't exactly love William and Judy either Daddy."

"Now Sally, hold on a minute. It doesn't matter how I feel about them..."

Sally interrupts Don. "Yeah, but it does matter how we feel. We don't want to go there."

"I get it, Sally. Where's Henry? Let me speak to Henry please." he asks.

Sally hands Henry the phone. "Donald Draper is on the line for you, Mr. Francis." Henry smiles at her.

"Hello, Don?" Henry starts to speak. "I want you to know, this is what the kids want, this was their plan. And for however long as they want to be here, they are always welcome. This is their home."

"Henry, I'm their father. If they want to stay in New York, I will move to Rye." Don tells him coolly. "They will be with me."

"I understand that, Don. I do. I know you're their father, but for the past five, no actually six years, this has been their house. They are perfectly welcome to stay here. They would not have to move. Don, I do want them here. And I want them to see you any time they want. I want what is best for them. If you think about it, it could work very well."

"Henry, I appreciate what you're saying, but I can take care of them." Don is a little leery of this proposal.

"Look at it this way, right now, we would not have to change a thing. The kids would be in their own beds, their own home, their own school. Their mom just died. I want to make it as easy as possible for them." Henry does not want to get into a pissing contest with Don.

"They asked to stay with you?" Henry can tell that Don's ego feels a little bruised.

"They just want to stay in their familiar surroundings. You know they don't prefer me over you, Don. I can't take your place, ever. You are their father. But you know I do love them, as much as I'll always love their mother." Henry is fighting the lump in his throat. "I know your schedule is crazy at McCann. My workday is a little more structured. This could work well."

"Henry...I don't know what to say." Don is a little confused, but he is realizes again that his kids always were in good hands with Henry.

"I want to think about it. I agree, sending them to William and Judy's is not the best scenario. But, this a lot to ask of you, Henry."

"Don, it is not a burden for me. Not at all. What I'd be doing for them, it would be for Betty also..." he tells Don quietly.

Sally is watching Henry as he begins to become emotional. She steps toward him before he starts to break down. "Can I talk to my dad please?"

"Don, Sally wants to speak to you. Please, think about it." Henry hands Sally the phone and sits down at the kitchen table, and puts his head in his hands.

"Daddy, listen. It's been a rough year. We want to just not have anything more to deal with. The boys especially. They just want to be with their friends, stay in their school. And we'll see you much more often than if we were far away, you know that. Daddy, it's what WE want." Sally spoke in a manner way beyond her years.

"Sally, let's not make hasty decisions..." Don began.

"Listen to me, please. This is no hasty decision. It's what we want. Can you try and understand please." she pleads. "Oh, and I'm enrolling in Rye Country Day for next year. I have about a month and a half left at Miss Porter's this year. When I get back to school tomorrow I'll work on getting my credits transferred."

"Sally, why? Don't you want to graduate with your friends?" Don realizes that he is going to have some tough years ahead. Sally just doesn't take no for an answer.

"I have friends here. I want to be with the Gene and Bobby too, and see you more often" she tells him. "Mom went so fast, Daddy. It all went so fast and now she's gone. I just want to be with my family, my immediate family. And Henry is family too."

"Sally...now listen to me. Does Henry, is he really ok with this? Are you sure he's ok? He sounds very upset." Don asks.

"Daddy really? Of course he's upset, his wife just died."

Sally had to wonder, doesn't he get it, did she really have to explain every damn thing to him? She knew that Don was also upset about Betty's death, but sadly realized that Henry was the one really suffering, as the grieving spouse.

She continued. "Yes, he's more than ok with this. He made it clear to mom too, early on. She was stubborn, she said she wanted a woman in our lives. But we don't want to go to Judy. Would you? I mean, she is the right gender, but that is all. Would you want to see HER every day?"

"Ok Sally, I understand. No, I would not." Don had to agree.

"Do you know how often we have seen them in the past, what, maybe 5 years...I mean before mom got sick? I'd like to tell you five times, but I don't even think it was that often. That would be like sending us to strangers, and you were ok with that." She presented her new argument. "We don't want to live with strangers."

Don wasn't buying it. "They're not strangers and you know the difference."

Sally countered. "I know they're technically family, but we don't really know them. Or anyone else in Philadelphia. Do you know how lonely it would be?"

Don knew exactly how lonely it would be. He had been orphaned at a young age. Did he want that lonesome existence for his kids? He pictured them being miserable with William and Judy, who were never all that warm and fuzzy to him either. Does this make sense, having them stay with Henry? But, if this is what the kids want...and they must, Sally is really pushing for this...

Sally continued. "Plus, you know, we always see Pauline, Henry's mom. And his daughter too."

"Ok, enough now, Sally. Are the boys there?" Don asks. He can tell she is ready to push hard.

"Yes. They're in the living room. I'll get them." Sally rests the telephone on the counter and quickly runs over to Bobby and Gene. "Daddy's on the phone, he wants to talk to you."

Henry watches the boys run into the kitchen. He wonders himself now whether this is a good arrangement. They do have a father. Is his grief clouding his judgement?

"I'm talking first!" Bobby asserts. "Hi Dad."

"Hi Bobby." Don asks, "You know, we're discussing where you all will be living. Do you know where you would like to go?"

"I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay here, at home." Bobby tells him.

"You want to stay with Henry?" With a deep pang of guilt, he must concede that it was Henry who was the most stable person in his children's lives, not Betty, and certainly not him.

"Yeah, and we'll see still see you all the time, just like now." Bobby answered. "I don't want to go to Aunt Judy's. I don't want to leave home. I like it here."

Don finally found a half full pack of cigarettes in the back of an end table drawer. He lit one and took a long drag. "Ok. Let me speak to Gene for a minute please, Bobby."

Bobby hands Gene the phone. "It's for you."

"Gene, it's Daddy." Don feels the need to announce himself.

"I know. What's up Daddy?" Gene asks.

"Well, I spoke to Sally and Bobby, and now I want to talk to you. We were talking about you guys maybe going down to Aunt Judy and Uncle William's and living there. Would you like that?"

"No. I want to stay home." Then Gene told his father quietly, "It reminds me of Mommy here." Henry looked up from the kitchen table with tears welling in his eyes.

This got to Don as well. Did he really want to tear them away from all that was comforting and familiar, especially right now? Betty had only died a couple of weeks ago.

"I miss Mommy, and all her things are here." Gene started to cry. "Don't make us go there, Daddy."

"You don't have to, sweetie". Don felt his own tears coming. "I was just asking, just to see what you wanted. It's ok, Gene. You're ok. You don't have to go. Is Henry there, I want to talk to him."

Gene holds the phone out. "Henry, Dad wants to talk to you."

"Henry, the kids seem pretty clear in what they want. But have you really thought about this? You're going through a rough time now. Wouldn't this be too much for you?"

It seemed a little odd to Henry, hearing Don's compassion for him.

"Thanks Don. I have thought about it. A lot. I know it's not Betty's plan, but I only want what's best for them, what they feel is best. And this is not written in stone, we would take it as it comes." Henry told Don. "Truth be told, it helps me, having them with me. I feel Betty's presence with them. I suppose I feel like Gene does."

"Well, let's see how it works out. I can always move up there." Don tells Henry. "I know Sally spoke to William, what did he think?"

Henry clears his throat and tells Don. "I don't know really. He wants to talk to Judy. They'll be calling us back in a little while."

Don tells Henry. "I'm going to call them. I'll tell them what the kids want. You don't have to go through this with them. Judy can be very obstinate, even if she's not exactly thrilled with having them there."

Don takes another long drag on his cigarette. He knew he had to express his gratitude to Henry. With Betty's passing, the contention was no longer there, it had been vanishing as she declined.

"Henry, I just need to tell you, I don't know if I've ever told you how much I appreciate what you have done for the kids. And for so long. I know I behaved very selfishly over the years, and both Betty and I didn't handle a lot of things well. We acted pretty immaturely quite often. You were always a gentleman, and probably the only real adult they could look to. I can understand why they want to stay with you."

Henry, already in a fragile state, finds himself tearing up again. That must not have been easy for Don to say. "It's been my pleasure, Don. Really. They're great kids. They're keeping me young."

"I know. Thanks again, Henry. Let me call William now. I'll call you later. I want to wish Sally a happy birthday again, without all this talk. Talk to you in a while." Don hung up and Henry quietly put the receiver back on the wall phone.

"Well, it looks like we're all staying put, kids." Henry tells them.

"Thank God!" Bobby blurts as Gene hugs Henry.

"You mean thank Henry" Sally tells Bobby. She looks up at Henry. "I mean it, thank you, Henry. So much."


End file.
